Space Cowboy & the Pompatus of Love
by Morality Sucks
Summary: This story takes place in both the past and the present of the show. The first chapter is set a few months before 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' and the following chapters exist in an ambiguous time after 2018. This is a meandering Michael/Alex character study with fluff, smut, and seriousness. CW: implied homophobia, adult language, sexual content, hurt/comfort, references of PTSD
1. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

Roswell High sat, squat and blocky, under the blaring desert sun; a determined refuge from the harsh weather full of people itching to run from it. The final bell of the day cut through the haze and seconds later students were pushing through the doors with such enthusiasm that it looked as if the building had been pressurized.

Not one to normally be as thrilled for a three day weekend as his peers, Michael Guerin was in rare spirits as he ducked out of his AP chemistry and joined the herd. Rather than beeline for the front doors, he made his way down to the side hallway and tried to look casual as he stared straight through the students still milling about in front of their lockers at the exact person he had come to find.

Dressed head to toe in his usual black, Alex Manes was transferring books from an immaculately organized locker to a black shoulder bag emblazoned with the AFI logo as well as various other patches and pins. He seemed hyper focused and completely lost to his surroundings.

Michael stood for a moment, a rock parting the flow of the other students as he watched his friend, taking note of the way his lips were moving while muttering to himself. After enough self hyping, he finally approached. "Hey, Manes!" He announced his presence with a smack against the adjoining locker but no physical contact, Michael was not a fan of unsolicited touching in any circumstances.

Alex turned to him in surprise and only then were the ear buds in each ear visible.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry. Not tryna interrupt-"

"No, it's fine!" He quickly took the ear buds out, threading the wire back through the black Good Charlotte hoodie he wore and bundling them up to stuff into the hoodie pocket along with the bulky ipod they were attached to. "I just like to tone out the chaos that is high school students gone rabid. What's up?"

Suddenly stricken by a sting of awkwardness that was wholly unfamiliar, Michael cleared his throat and shifted his feet to an active stance. "Uh, well… what, uh, what are your weekend plans?" He cringed even as he said it, every word sounding more forced than the last to his ears.

With narrowed eyes and only a slight trace of a smirk, Alex regarded him cautiously. "Why?"

Scoffing, Michael stepped back and held his hands out plaintively. "Really? I'm just asking if you're free."

He closed his locker with a quiet snap and leaned against it. "I'm free tomorrow. But tonight I'm going with Liz and Maria to see the My Bloody Valentine midnight release."

Michael nodded, trying not to look too put out. "Cool. I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go on a camping trip to celebrate the three day weekend and the weather."

This seemed to raise interest. "What, like, just us?"

His face flushed. "Oh, no! Nah, Max and Isobel will be there, they promised they would be anyway. And I have two tents!"

Nodding, Alex had gone from a sly smirk to a thoughtful frown.

"Well, maybe I can plan one soon that you can make it too-"

"I'll come."

"What, really?"

He nodded again, demeanor shifting from coy to sincere. "Yeah, it would be nice camping with someone that actually wants me there. My dad has turned every camping trip of my life into a fun sized military deployment."

"That sounds miserable."

Alex smirked again, but this one was empty save for a sardonic undertone. "Truly. Are you headed out now?"

Still trying to maintain an air of casualness, Michael leaned back, brushed some errant curls out of his eyes, and shrugged in what he hoped was a casual gesture. "I mean, not right away. I'm ready to jet but I think I gotta take Max and Izzy by the Evans' house- uh, their house on the way out. And then a quick supplies run for food."

"I just need a minute at my house to get clothes. Is there room in your truck?"

"Yup, Max can ride in the bed."

This made Alex grin. Then they were both grinning and Michael was staring right into his dark eyes like a moth dully transfixed on a bright flame, frozen to the spot.

Finally, after what felt like minutes to Michael but in reality was a normal amount of time for humans to pause in between conversation topics, Alex gave a light laugh. "Okay, I should go find Liz to tell her I'm rain checking, the showing is sold out so hopefully she can find someone to give my ticket to. I'll meet you out in the parking lot."

And he was gone, walking towards the back hallway where the biology labs were.

It took Michael a few seconds to unclench his teeth from the locked on grin and wipe his sweaty hands on his jeans, shaking his head until it felt like some sense had returned. He turned on the heel of his cowboy boot and headed to the side door, letting out a low whistle of relief as he went. The second he left the air conditioned school, dry desert heat wrapped around him like a comforter. Even with a light cotton plaid and a single thin undershirt, it was uncomfortable enough to turn the whistle into a groan. Then another groan when he saw Max standing with arms stiffly folded and face stiffly set in a dramatic facsimile of regret, Lis Ortecho right behind him looking apologetic and Isobel, perched on the tailgate and radiating her usual air of aggressive boredom.

As hopeful as he was to the contrary, in the back of his head he had been counting down to the inevitable; his siblings were about to flake on him. Again.

"What's goin' on, gang?"

Isobel waived the packet of papers she was using as a fan at him. "Michael, finally. You really need a cell so we can contact you."

'I'll put it on the list along with a bed and a roof to go over it.' He thought, and then felt guilty for thinking. "Yeah, you're telling me."

"Well, we were just waiting-" Max started.

"For me? So we can get goin' on the camping trip you swore we would all go on a month ago?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, but at least the other two had the decency to grimace.

"It's not like we're canceling for no reason! It's just that Liz has opening weekend tickets for a movie I really want to see, and…" He trailed off under the narrow eyed glare Michael was directing at him.

"You, Max Evans, have been looking forward to the My Bloody Valentine 3D remake?" Even with the obvious pleading painted on his supposed brother's face, Michael felt betrayed. He knew this was just a girl thing but it didn't stop the sting of yet another abandonment. He sighed. "Yeah, you know what, I just had it twisted. You were telling me you were worried it wouldn't hold up to the original, my mistake."

Max turned his puppy dog eyes to thankful. "Yes. Exactly. So you're fine with me ditching tonight?"

Michael shrugged in what he hoped came off as a magnanimous gesture rather than the exasperated ambivalence that it was. "Not gonna keep a guy from his bloody valentine." It was feeling hotter and stuffier now, he shouldn't have planned this, it was always the same since they got into high school. "Wait. I thought the midnight release was all sold out. Where'd the extra ticket come from?"

Now Liz wore a guilty frown. "Oh! Well. Max wanted to go so bad… I was just about to go find Alex to tell him."

"Tell Alex what?" Alex asked, walking up from the other side of the truck with Maria DeLuca in tow.

There may have been a slight breeze kicked up by the new arrivals, but hearing Alex's voice cooled Michael's stress induced overheating in a much less tangible way.

It was fine that Max was bailing, because Alex was not.

"Tell you, uh, the good news that you don't have to go with us to the movie!" Liz tried to sell it like a positive, but her face was all guilt and apology.

"Have to?" Alex and Maria said in unison, glancing at each other and then at Liz.

She visibly winced. "Yeah, you know, because you were saying how terrible it looked?"

"All of the movies we watch together are terrible, isn't that the point?" Maria was already gearing up to defensive and annoyed.

"Yes, you are completely right. Forget about it, I shouldn't have tried to hijack our movie night."

"I actually don't want to go that badly, I can catch a Sunday matinee." Max interjected with a practiced air of martyrdom.

The situation felt comedic in its building tension and Michael felt himself holding back a sharp laugh that threatened to cut through his grim exterior. He pursed his lips and looked at Alex across the bed of his truck. Alex was wearing a less constrained smile of amusement and he actually grinned when they met eyes, like the whole thing was a private joke between them.

With a sardonic eyebrow waggle at Michael, Alex spoke up. "Oh no, by all means! Don't change your plans on my account. That movie does look exceptionally awful, I only wanted to go to see Jensen Ackles' range of pretty, brooding boy in a horror show to pretty, brooding boy in a horror movie. Those lips, you know." He glanced back at Michael while finishing this bit, a little redder in the cheeks than when he started.

Everyone took a beat to digest this. Finally, Liz broke the silence. "Okay, great. So no harm done? Max, Maria and I will go-"

Maria cut her off with a snort of indignant laugher. "Ohhh no, I'm out of this one, I want plausible deniability if Kyle comes asking about who went on what bloody valentine date together. It's a no from me."

The culprits were back to melodramatic frowns.

"It's not like that, it's just-"

"Nope, I mean it, Liz. This is not what I had planned for tonight. You have my blessing but not my attendance." She turned around carefully on her platform wedge sandals, flowing ankle length skirt billowing in the warm breeze. "Alex, you need a ride home?"

Alex's devious smirk subsided into a sincere smile. "Oh, actually, Guerin- Michael offered me a lift. Thank you for thinking of me, though."

Maria raised one eyebrow in Michael's direction and Michael met her gaze with innocent eyes. She shrugged. "I'm glad. You know where I am if you get bored or… need a ride, I'm free."

"I know where to find you. Thanks, Maria."

With her skirt and blouse whipping behind her, she left her disapproval lingering thick in the air.

"Oh my god, that was so dramatic." Isobel said, her voice echoing up from the pile of sleeping bags and bedding she had laid down on in the bed of the truck while taking in the tiff like an episode of Dawson's Creek.

"Izzy, are you still coming?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

She sat up and adjusted her blond hair that was barely disheveled from the makeshift fan, but imperfect enough to be an Izzy problem. "Oh, Michael, you have to know I don't want to go sweat buckets out in the desert, right?"

"Yeah. I kinda figured seein' as how when I asked you said 'hypothetically, maybe' and laughed." He gave a forced, crooked grin that he was used to putting on.

She nodded with exaggerated sympathy while she slid off of the open tailgate and straightened her lace shorts. "Well, I didn't want to just say no, it's because of my altruistic regards for the human condition, you know?"

"Uh huh, thank you for your concern."

"Don't mention it. Max? This hot mess has cooled off, are you driving me home or am I taking the car?"

Izzy was already walking away so Max shrugged a silent apology and hurried after her. Liz mouthed 'sorry' while looking appropriately uncomfortable and trailed off after them. "Isobel, do you want to come with us to the movie and use the third ticket?"

"God no. I hate horror movies."

"Huh. I swear Rosa told me you liked them."

Now only the two boys were left standing across from each other next to the powder blue pickup. The dusty parking lot had nearly emptied out and there was a suppressive quiet reclaiming the area from the dissipating din of student chatter.

"Woof." Michael said, grimacing.

"Woof." Alex agreed, smiling.

"So… I get it if you don't wanna come now that it's just us-"

Alex interrupted with a short laugh. "Of course I still wanna go! Both of our friends bailed on us, it would be lame to not go have fun together- I mean, have fun without them."

The heat Michael felt spreading across his cheeks had to have come from the overbearing sun. He smiled, still lopsided but this time genuine. "Yeah. Cool. More s'mores for us."

"Some more s'mores?"

"S'more mores." Michael said straight faced. He opened the passenger door and gestured to the seat right as embarrassment at this overt action set in and turned his ears red. Thankfully they were covered by disarrayed curls and no one could tell. "Uh… the door is a bit tricky, here ya go."

Alex was watching him with lips pursed to fight off an encroaching grin. "And they say chivalry is dead."

"Shut up, Manes." He laughed, stalking around the cab to the driver's door and hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt. With a slight head shake, he climbed up into the truck and settled in, giving a reserved sideways smile to his coyly smirking passenger. When they made eye contact, he laughed again. He didn't normally have this much trouble making conversation, and the weird fluttering in his stomach was even less familiar. Trying his best to appear calm, he turned the engine on and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

Just as he was wondering what to say, Alex started talking. It was casual chit chat at first, about music in general and then focused in on guitarists. Michael found himself mid proclamation of abject love for Jimmy Page when they pulled up to the Manes' house.

"Wow, sorry." He apologized, red in the face as he stopped in front of the well established suburban two level. "You accidentally hit my obsession button and got me going."

"Accidentally?" Alex said with an innocent smile as he opened the door and climbed out. "I'll be fast, just wait a bit."

"Do you, uh, want some help?"

"No! No, definitely not. Just… wait here. And keep the engine going."

It didn't take much longer than a single Fleetwod Mac song from one of the classic rock radio stations for him to come back out, an external frame hiking back pack haphazardly slung over one shoulder and a harried expression on his face.

"Hey! You sure you don't need help?" Michael offered, but he was already getting in, shoving the pack in on the bench ahead of him.

"Nah, just go. Right now."

Not about to question a speedy exit, Michael nodded and pulled the parking brake as he checked his mirrors. Then he froze with a foot firmly on the brakes.

Cutting across the perfectly manicured lawn in Alex's wake was a tall figure back lit by the unforgiving sun. "Alex!"

The boys locked eyes. Alex looked pleading, afraid almost, but Michael was too unfamiliar with social cues to be sure of how to react. The engine was thrumming beneath them.

Then Jesse Manes was there, leaning into the open passenger window and staring with a grim frown from his son to Michael, a hand over his eyes to block the glaring light. "Alex…" he repeated, but slower and in a darker tone. "I was going to tell you to take my rifle for target shooting but, uh, you didn't mention Michael Guerin was among the 'friends' inviting you camping. I assumed you meant the DeLuca girl and Arturo's daughter like usual."

The words themselves weren't hostile, but they hung in the air like an unsaid threat and Michael felt his skin prickle from the adrenaline rush they caused. "Uh, hey Mr. Manes." He volunteered, but the older man didn't respond except to narrow his eyes. "We-"

"We are gonna go pick them up right after this, actually." Alex cut him off, speaking fast and staring pointedly at the dashboard. "And, like, you're always telling me I need to hang out with the guys-"

There was a thud from the open hand slamming on the outside of the door that made Michael jump, but Alex didn't so much as flinch. "Boy, you know I don't mean it like that. And not people like this. You need to join the ROTC like I've been saying, not going on queer- weird outings with your girlfriends and future trailer trash."

Michael had the ability to fling Jesse Manes 30 feet back against the siding of his pristine house. He had the ability to simply move his foot to the gas pedal and drive away. But he didn't. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and heat was rising to his face, an ashamed and angry flush that could not be more different than the giddy blushing he had experienced only minutes ago when the two of them were alone and safe together.

"Dad, what the hell?!" Alex snapped at the callous remark, finally turning to glare through the window.

Rather than answer, his father opened the truck door and gestured for him to get out.

"No way! You told me I could go-"

"Permission rescinded. You are staying home and helping me with a project."

"But…" He looked helplessly to Michael.

Michael froze in indecision. Was he supposed to step in? Should he floor it, leaving the threat in their dust? What did Alex need from him? But his panicked brain couldn't parse the situation fast enough so he watched in horror as Jesse Manes grabbed his son by the upper arm and jerked him out of the truck.

As Alex stumbled out onto the sidewalk, Michael yanked the parking brake and opened his door but froze at the sound of his name.

"Michael! It's fine. No big deal." Alex was rubbing his arm and staring directly at him. "Just, tell Maria I'm sorry I can't make it." He grabbed his pack and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "I was really looking forward to tonight."

Nodding with clenched teeth, Michael gave a wave and considered a reply but as he opened his mouth, Jesse Manes slammed the door and ushered his son into a march across the radioactively green grass.

It all happened so fast. One minute Michael was working up the nerve to put an arm around his crush's shoulders, the next he was sitting by himself in shocked silence, tears welling up from a cracked facade while he berated himself for not acting faster. For not saving him.

He drove slowly through town with shaking hands and parked at the Wild Pony.

Maria left immediately after hearing what happened, and even pretended not to notice the bottle of whiskey he pilfered from behind the bar on their way out. She had agreed someone needed to check on Alex, and that someone probably shouldn't be Michael.

So the camping trip that had changed from a prospective 'family' outing to a hesitant date ended up being Michael by himself in the desert like every other night, going over what he should have done and drinking until he couldn't think about it anymore.


	2. I Write Fluff Not Tragedy

2018, early August

* * *

The parking lot of the Wild Pony was all but empty, a few hoopties and a jeep spaced around the gravel lot. Without thinking about it Michael parked next to the jeep and got out, breathing in the comfortably warm breeze while adjusting his red plaid shirt and running a hand through his sun kissed curls. He checked his breath and headed into the bar.

The glow of neon lights blended with the rustic lanterns on the ceiling to make the place look as welcoming as it felt. A few regulars were sat at tables far apart but no one looked up as he strode across the floor, heels clunking with every step. He straddled a stool at the end of the bar where two people were huddled. "Howdy. Who do I talk to about getting a drink in this place?"

Maria gave him a pointed frown. "You talk to yourself about settling your tab. Now hush, I'm getting my cards read." Below her, the tarnished wood surface of the bar was obscured by a dozen large tarot cards arranged in a sprawling and complicated display. Across from her, Alex was leaning over and studying them closely.

Michael took the opportunity to study him intently. Not much had changed since high school; there were some faint crinkles by his eyes and his jawline was more defined, the defiant set face of someone that had lived through hell but still resorted to laughter when things went wrong. Thick eyebrows were quirked over dark eyes that roamed the spread of well worn cards and all Michael could think was how badly he wanted those eyes to roam over him with the same intensity.

As if these thoughts had been broadcasted, Alex flicked his eyes over and they met gazes. His face split in a grin with an embarrassed laugh. "You heard her, don't interrupt my focus with your cowboy charm and puppy dog eyes."

"Which am I, a cowboy or a puppy dog?" His words were dripping with smugness but his heart was hammering in his chest and his lungs felt as if they couldn't fill up all the way due to the butterflies filling his stomach.

"I'm pretty sure you go both ways."

When Michael finally stopped laughing, Maria quieted him back to silence and gestured to the deck. "This read is just a mock up to explain some inner connected symbolism. Let's reshuffle and-" She shifted her eyes between them suggestively. "He can give you a real reading?"

"Hell, I'm in no hurry." Michael took his hat off and hooked a boot over the bar runner to illustrate how settled in he was.

Alex looked reluctant. "Really? For some reason, I didn't think you'd be into this stuff."

He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Stranger things people on this planet have believed in. And, you know, I'm a Gemini so I've got an open mind." In fact, having no basis for a human birth date, Michael had picked out his own sign like it was a personality test.

This elicited a bewildered glance at Maria who also shrugged. "He is Gemini, you can tell because he's so full of shit."

"And don't forget I'm also friends with DeLuca, she's got that Big Aura Energy you can't ignore."

This made Maria beam. "Why Guerin, I'm flattered. That might be the nicest thing you've ever said about me. Okay-" She gathered the cards and handed them to him. "Shuffle these. Carefully. Don't bend them doing card tricks or whatever." And she was off to do some rounds.

Now Alex was watching deft fingers moving cards with care and precision while thinking about the other things he would like those calloused yet gentle hands to be doing. "I'm a Leo, by the way."

Michael looked up from the bridging he was doing with his good hand, a far off and pensive expression melting into an apologetic smile. "Yeah. I know."

"Maria tell you?"

"She says we're compatible signs."

"Oh, thank god for that. Otherwise we'd have to call off the whole date."

Michael laughed and shook his head. "Nah, if the stars wanna fuck with my life they're gonna have to come down here and square up." He slammed the freshly shuffled deck down for emphasis. "Now. Read me some cards."

Unable to decide if a declaration to fight the stars for a date was romantic or foolish, Alex grinned because either way it was terribly endearing. He reached for the deck on autopilot, thinking only about soft touches and whispered words.

"Whoa, don't forget to cut it!" Reaching out quickly, Michael split the cards and put the bottom stack on the top. "There. Go ahead."

Three cards were drawn, they lay face down and the ornate blue pattern on their backs had all been rubbed down with age and use. He flipped the first one. "The High Priestess. Um, there's secrets you can't share with anyone that motivate your actions?" He said it like a question.

"I've drawn that for him multiple times," Maria said, passing by with a pitcher of beer and a tray of glasses. "It's because he's full of shit."

Michael grinned.

The second one got turned over. "The Moon, reversed. You are… letting go of things that scare you and…" He looked up with narrowed eyes. "Embracing the dual sides of yourself."

"Finally, right? What's the last one?"

Rather than announce this one, he turned the card over and they both stared at it. "Hmm."

"Well. I'll be." Tiny dimples accompanied the mischievous smile Michael had. "What does that card mean?"

Alex's ears were visibly red and he held a fist up to block his blush. "The Lovers can, uh, imply a future business partnership-"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. Maria? Can you back me up?"

She took a glance on her way back to the kitchen before stopping to put a hand on her hip and attempting to scold Michael while fighting off a laugh. "You come into my bar and sully the art of divination by stacking the deck just to flirt?!"

He feigned indignation. "I would never, and frankly I'm hurt you would even suggest it! And you can't really prove anything."

She rolled her eyes. "You are way too much for me right now. Don't y'all have somewhere to be?"

His face lit up. "Yes, we do! Are you good, Alex?

Alex nodded and rolled the sleeves of his ruddy brown plaid shirt up to the elbows before grabbing his crutch and standing up. "Yup. My pack's in my car, but I figure we just take your truck?"

"Perfect. I wanna be set up before sunset so we can watch it- uh, so we have the natural light." Michael gave him two thumbs up which he turned to finger guns for Maria.

Without hesitation, she finger gunned back. "See ya later, Lovers!"


	3. Total Eclipse of the Heart

The sun was burning the desperate red of a sunset in the desert, fighting its encroaching disappearance below the shimmering horizon with sharp rays that glittered off of the blue Chevy's chrome accents. Strains of a Crosby, Stills & Nash song from a little boombox on the ground radiated around the campsite with the subsiding heat.

Alex was sitting in one of two camp chairs near a freshly dug fire pit with a sweating beer in one hand and a look of amusement on his face. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

"Help? No, I think I almost got it." The response came from the other side of a large tent in complete disarray suspended strangely just off the ground as Michael attempted to wrangle it into submission with the aid of his telekineses.

"You know, it's safe to say I've had a bit more practice with setting up a camp than you do. Just let me help."

"I've got it, I'm a survivalist and a man of the wilderness. You can call me Bear Grylls-" There was a ripping sound and the pole he had been struggling to force into place tore through the outer nylon. "Uh…" He stepped back from the mess to poorly stifled laughter from his companion. "I'm thinking that was probably the wrong hole. Why didn't this come with instructions?"

Alex laughed harder. "Do you always need a manual to find the right hole?"

The innuendo cut through his frustration and he rolled his eyes with a smile. "Guess I was askin' for that one."

"Mmm. Practically begging." The laughter had eased into a smile and a suggestive glint in his eyes.

Michael tilted his head and held eye contact for a beat before lowering his hand and allowing the twisted up tent to fall from his psychic grip. "Begging, huh?" He muttered.

Before the flirting could further distract, Alex joined him next to the mess of canvas and nylon that had poles sticking out in odd directions like misplaced bones. He pushed his half empty beer can at him and rolled the sleeves of his olive drab over shirt up past his elbows. "Hold my beer."

"That sounds more like my line than yours."

He walked around extracting poles and readjusting the crumpled tarp. "Okay, if you don't anchor the tarp it's practically useless." He pushed a stake through one of the eyelets and wasn't the least bit surprised to see three more float to the other corners. He gave Michael a pointed look.

Michael raised his eyebrows over the rim of the beer he was drinking and gave a thumbs up with his extended hand that drove the stakes into the ground in sync with the gesture. "Like that?"

"Yeah, but the only reason you were having so much trouble before is because you were trying to Carrie the whole thing, it over complicates it."

"Work smarter, not harder." He said with a shrug, crushing the can he had just drained with his good hand and tossing it into a garbage bag that was hung over the back of the cooler.

Already it was taking on an actual tent shape as Alex busied himself with the task. "You ripped a hole trying to use alien magic for a shortcut. Is that smarter or harder, Bear Grylls?" Behind him floated the rest of the stakes, patiently waiting to bury themselves in the hard packed, sandy soil.

"Hmm… Smart cuz now you're doing it for me?"

"You are not as good at saving face as you think you are." He rounded the corner of the now fully erected tent and nearly ran right into Michael, who had walked around to meet him.

"Sucking face?" He quipped, grabbing Alex's shoulder to steady him after putting off his balance. "Aw, come on, you know from experience that I'm pretty damn good at that."

Though caught off guard, he was not about to be one up'd. He braced himself with a hand on Michael's hip. "But are you as good as you think you are?" Then tugged him closer with a single finger on his belt buckle and leaned up to kiss him just as he opened his mouth to retort.

The kiss tasted tinny from the beer they had shared. Michael's lips were rough from regular exposure to the desert weather, and up close he had a dizzying smell of leather and mechanic's soap that nearly derailed Alex from his flirtatious teasing.

For his part, Michael had gone slack when their lips met, his hands falling to his sides while his brain struggled to get its neurons firing properly again. After a few seconds he shifted gears from surprise to urgency, grabbing at the other man's shirt and stepping closer, grazing his lips with a hint of excitement.

Alex met this excited reaction with the smug calmness that comes with having the upper hand of self control when sexual urges get involved, another thing he had more practice at. He stood firm, letting Michael move to him, to lean into him and cling to him like a drowning man. He gently caressed the tongue exploring his mouth, receptive but dominant. After a final push of tongue and waist, he broke away.

A low moan from the back of Michael's throat turned to a pained groan as the kiss and the body contact were cut short.

Straightening his shirt, Alex smirked at Michael, who had a hand to his still open mouth and a dazed expression on his face. He turned and picked up the fallen stakes, driving them into place near the tent porch and securing the guy lines to them with complicated knots. "And that's how you pitch a tent."

"Mhm it sure is," as he spoke, he tried readjusting the obvious bulge in his now too tight jeans discreetly. He was still looking disoriented, but making a mighty effort to remain cool. "They teach you that in the air force?"

Zipping the door open and tying them back, Alex gave a pointed eye roll in response. "Actually no, but that is where I got really good at it. I'm not gonna bother with the rain fly in the dry season, you should put it back in the bag and get the bedding and the sleeping bags; do you want to start the fire or should I?" He had shifted into clipped efficiency as if the last two minutes hadn't happened.

As hoped, it had Michael reeling. "I'm feelin' a lot of heat right here, really."

"But we'll be freezing once the sun goes down."

"I'll keep you warm."

He spoke through a sudden smile. "Okay, but what about food? And smores?"

"Ohhhh my god, you're right!" He lamented in a dramatic tone. "The smores! Guess I'll have to melt your chocolate after I toast my marshmallows." With an overt up and down look at Alex, he turned on his heal and headed for the truck.

Alex was surprised to see him bring only a bundle of firewood, some scrub brush and a box of matches to the fire pit, he had honestly expected gasoline. "Matches, huh? Not gonna just start the wood burning with your mind?"

He smiled, a little embarrassed. "See, I don't know if I actually could. It's easy enough with something that's got all the makings of a fire kicking around already like electricity or combustion engines. Making just a piece of wood burst into flames gets into a molecular level I haven't really cracked yet." Hiking his pants up, he squatted down and arranged the wood carefully over the little pile of dry scrub brush he was using as tinder. He tucked an unlit match under it all and stood back up. "Add a little phosphorus to the mix, though, and-" He snapped his fingers and the tinder flared up like a torch.

"Wow. I guess that beats getting on your knees and blowing."

—

The sun had finally kissed the horizon by the time the two had finished making burgers over a well used fire pit grill. They sat facing the sunset, so close together that the arms of their camp chairs were butting into each other and their knees were touching, eating in comfortable quiet as the air began to cool and soft pink light bathed everything in a rosy glow.

As even the twilight began to fade, Michael surreptitiously watched Alex, who was chewing on the last of his burger thoughtfully and staring into the distance. His eyes seemed to darken as the light changed to deep purple and then blink out entirely, leaving a dark sky and only the crackling fire to illuminate the camp. He swallowed and squinted at the sky. "Oh, wow, did you just see that?"

Michael dragged his eyes away from what he really wanted to admire. "See what?" He asked innocently.

"I think I saw a shooting star…"

"Like that one?" He indicated a light streaking through the sky with a casual wave.

"Uhhh is this, like, an alien thing?" He was completely transfixed now, eyes wide with wonder.

Michael laughed. "Technically, yeah. Not my brand of alien, though. And they're not shooting stars, it's a meteor shower." He collected the paper plates they had eaten on and offered him a hand up. "C'mon, I left blankets and pillows in the truck bed so we can watch it from there."

Dumbstruck, Alex let himself be tugged along by the hand while he craned his head to watch the meteors blinking in and out of visibility in the dark sky. "You planned this?"

"Yup!" He said, pride evident in his voice. "This is peak viewing time for the Perseids and one of the best locations. I come out to this area every year to see 'em."

"Ah. You must take all the hotties to meteor showers."

They had reached the truck which was parked right on the edge of the ring of light and he opened the tailgate; shaking out a thick comforter and spreading it on the truck bed floor and fluffing a pair of pillows for effect. He turned back around, mouth set in an ironic little smile, his full lips accentuated by shadows playing across his face from the hectic fire. "Nah. Never brought anyone else, matter of fact. It never felt like something I wanted to share, until now."

For the first moment since the meteor shower had become visible, Alex looked away from the sky and they locked eyes. "Oh."

It was several beats before Michael broke the silence, though he did not break the eye contact. "Can I give you a hand up?"

"I don't need a hand up." Despite the warmth in his chest and butterflies in his stomach, he couldn't dull the edge to this reflexive response.

Michael screwed his face up in a confused frown at the sudden bristling and drop in tone before understanding dawned. "I think you misinterpreted that. It was a coy excuse to hold you in kissing distance again, like stretching to get my arm around you in a movie theater?"

"You don't need an excuse to do that, Michael." He laughed, relieved it was more of his graceless come ons rather than misplaced pity or doubt in his abilities. "We're spending a romantic night under the stars together, you can just kiss me." Even in the firelight, it was evident that he was blushing.

He pursed his lips and nodded at what a good point that was, then he grabbed Alex by the waist, lifted him onto the tailgate and insinuated himself between his legs. He brought him closer with one hand on the small of his back and the other pulling at the front of his jeans and kissed without any of the reserve from before.

Without a second of surprise, Alex was returning the pent up passion as strongly as he could in the current arrangement. He wrapped a leg around Michael's waist, grinding into him and slipping both hands into his never tamed hair, toying with the soft curls. He alternated between caressing that wild mane and tugging gently on it, devouring the low moans this elicited with hints of teeth and imploring tongue. He brought it closer to the edge than they'd ever gotten without going over, then he broke it off with one soft little bite on his bottom lip.

"Why…?" Michael was panting and unable to say more than that.

"Because, I don't want to miss the meteor shower." Alex replied, nuzzling his cheek; enjoying the sensation of his prickly scruff and taking in the intoxicating smell of him again.

They were still holding onto each other, and Michael was holding the tightest trying to ground himself. He stared up at the person he had always held so close to his heart, being right there close to him physically and not repulsed or rejecting him. It felt like more than he deserved. "Ha, you're right. Gettin' a little sidetracked. Hold on, you get comfortable, I'll be right back."

Soon, the haunting intro to Pink Floyd's Meddle started up and Alex laughed. "I should've guessed, does it sync up to the meteors like Dark Side?"

"Only if you're high enough." The truck shook as he jumped over the side and sat down, another blanket on his arm that he draped over Alex's shoulders. With a bit of shimmying, he kicked off his boots and pushed them onto the ground. "Luckily, I always come prepared." He extracted a pale white joint from behind his ear and held it out. "Now, don't frown at me, this is legal. I bought it at a dispensary."

"Really? I was pretty sure I saw you buy it off of Maria."

"Well I could have bought it from a dispensary. But their prices are highway robbery." He flipped open a zippo and lit the end, inhaling deep and holding it for awhile before blowing a thin column of smoke up that momentarily made the stars seem hazy and out of focus. He offered it over.

Alex accepted it awkwardly with a scoff of laughter, holding it like a cigarette and taking a few small puffs while watching the sky. His eyebrows were knit together to form a little v as he mulled over the weed and the celestial light show. He handed the joint back and caught Michael staring at him when he turned. He grinned. "Don't you think there's better things to be looking at right now?"

Michael shrugged. He was sitting with one knee raised up and his arm slung over it, socked feet resting against each other; the picture of comfort. In fact, he was as comfortable as he had ever been, as if this one moment in time with this one person was the only place he really felt he belonged. "Not from where I'm sitting."

"You are such a sap." But he was still grinning. He held out an edge of the blanket that was over his shoulders.

Scooting closer, Michael joined him under the fleece blanket and put an arm around his back. They cuddled and smoked in easy silence, Michael still paying more attention to Alex than the sky. When he looked at him, his dark eyes reflected the stars and even the meteors, flashing like fleeting sparks among the gleaming brown irises. It made his chest ache from yearning, wanting this to go on forever but knowing eventually the sun will rise and they will both have to go back out into the harsh world.

Taking one last big hit, Michael snubbed what was left of the joint out on the wheel tub and turned back, going straight in for a kiss. He caught him off guard, but it wasn't like the aggressive, lust filled making out they'd been edging each other with up to now. It was soft and slow. He held him with one hand on the back of his head, playing his fingers through the short cropped hair in sensuous movements similar to how he was teasing his tongue past receptive lips.

When they broke away, Alex moaned and a trail of smoke escaped his mouth, passed over from Michael, who was leaning against him forehead to forehead and smiling softly. He pushed into him, demanding more wordlessly with his lips.

Michael obliged, throwing off the blanket and pushing him down to straddle him, dragging teeth and tongue along his jaw until he was kissing his neck.

"Michael…" He panted through indecent moans.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to fucking explode if we don't-" This thought went unfinished, winding off into a deep moan as Michael pulled his head back by the grip he had on his hair and landed a soft bite on the vulnerable exposed skin.

"Settle down, I'm working on it." Michael purred with hot breath and a playful nip at his ear. In his own haze of desire, his hands were uncooperative and fumbling on the shirt buttons he was trying to undo; inevitably, two buttons popped off with a dull ripping sound.

Laughing, Alex moved his hands away and finished undoing the shirt himself. "Seems like you're the one that needs to settle down, this is my favorite shirt." Then he stopped talking altogether as calloused fingers were thrust into his mouth and wandering kisses trailed down his bare chest.

When Michael reached his midriff, he made quick work of the simple belt buckle and used both hands to lift him up at the hips and drag jeans and boxers down in a tortuously slow movement while following their progress with an eager mouth.

Pants finally pulled past his stiff erection, Alex gasped at the touch of the cold night air and fisted both hands into his unruly curls, pushing him further down urgently.

Rather than take him in his mouth right away, he continued the teasing play; licking up the length of his cock and working his hands between sensitive inner thighs and taut, strained balls. Once this had earned enough plaintive whimpers, he went down on him fully, leveraging it with a hand on his balls and a hand on his thigh.

Laying in a truck bed under a brilliantly sparkling sky, Alex climaxed with a yell that echoed through the empty desert.


	4. Shelter From the Storm

A good while past midnight found the campsite lulled to satisfied stillness; peaceful quiet against the backdrop of nocturnal desert creature calls that became ubiquitous once the sun went down. The fire had long since been doused by shovel fulls of loose sand, likewise had all of the food and supplies been carefully stowed. The tidy, restful scene was lit only by the stars, but this far away from major light pollution meant they were plenty bright to see by.

Near the closed entrance to the tent sat a dusty pair of cowboy boots leaning against well worn, but cared for combat boots. Behind thin layers of nylon and canvas the two men slept, their bodies entwined inside sleeping bags that had been zipped together under the coy pretext of shared warmth in the chilly night. And it was warm. A warm, intimate cocoon of satisfaction and safety keeping the cold, and the rest of the world, at bay.

Michael floated into wakefulness from abstract dreams of building up and releasing white hot energy in heady, orgasmic bursts. He cracked one eye open blearily, remembered where he was and gazed in fresh wonderment at the soundly sleeping form of Alex still nestled against him.

Because his face was turned down towards the warmth of Michael's bare chest, tousled brown hair was all that was visible, but it was easy to imagine the content set of his lips; the tension he poorly disguised during the day gone from his soft features. The hand that he had snaked across him when they had cuddled before was now in a relaxed fist, rising and falling gently with Michael's breathing.

Watching him was hypnotizing, so much so that Michael couldn't tell how long he had been awake when the first drop of water landed on his cheek. He turned his attention to the mesh roof where he noticed a good portion of the stars they slept under were blocked by pitch black silhouettes of clouds. As he processed this with a sleep laden brain, more water sluiced through the fabric, falling on both of them.

Now Alex was blinking awake, wiping rain off his face with the dazed movements of someone whose body was quicker to wake up than their consciousness was.

"Hey, it's okay. Just a little summer storm." Michael assured, easing him off of his chest and extracting himself from the warm bedding. "I'll go put the rain fly on and you can go back to sleep. But save me a spot." And, because he had been wanting to since waking up next to him, kissed his forehead before standing up.

"Mmmhmm…" The response was no more than a murmur as he settled back and tucked his head into the polyester sleeping bag to keep dry.

Dragging jeans and a flannel on, Michael unzipped the door, stepped into his boots and then out into the storm.

The rain cover was much less complicated than the tent had been and he made quick work of it. Soon he was done securing the final guy line and walking around to each anchor to double check them, breathing in the musky smell of parched soil that seemed to sigh in relief as it was finally blessed with water. Though he was already soaked and the chill in the air was biting, he was enjoying the weather. It felt fresh and crisp in a way that made him relish returning to Alex, like splashing his face with cold water before going back to a warm, occupied bed.

As he stood surveying the camp, the muted colors of the night were abruptly thrown into vivid blue-white relief from a bolt of lightning that cracked across the sky like shattered glass and splintered down to touch a point beyond the horizon. Just as suddenly, it was dark, somehow darker than before.

Michael could feel the electricity even from this distance; the fallout energy that trailed the fractured bolt's path tickled his enhanced nerves like static cling and raised goosebumps along already cold skin. He turned to the sky, waiting in anticipation for the follow up thunder.

It was only a few seconds of wait before the sound caught up. It started low across the ground and spread through taut air, spread through him in a resounding wave. It gripped him, reverberating in his chest in the same place he repressed fear and anger, and as it reached crescendo he felt building release with it. The raw, frenzied energy conveyed in the rolling thunder had him grinning deliriously, rain streaking down his face and plastering curls to his head.

The fleeting thrill vanished as another sound broke through the diminishing rumbling that replaced electricity in his veins with ice; panicked yelling was pouring from the tent, piercing through the enraptured meditation elicited by the storm.

He nearly tripped over a tent line, boots slipping in the fresh mud as he stumbled around the corner and bolted through the half open entrance. A vague concern about the water and muck being tracked into the sanctum of the tent was fervently drowned out by one singular worry that roared even louder in his thoughts when his eyes adjusted to the dark and took in Alex's form, kneeling in the corner with his hands over his head. He wasn't yelling anymore, but he was breathing in heavy, choked breaths.

"Alex?" He spoke just above a whisper, scared to do anything that might aggravate the overwhelming atmosphere of distress. "What's wrong?"

Alex looked up, glassy eyes shining in the dim light. He gave a little head shake, trying to dispel something, before responding. "…Michael?"

Michael took a step forward but stopped in his tracks when the sudden movement caused the other man to flinch away. "It's okay, it's me. It's just me."

He moved his hands over his mouth to cover an uncontrollable sob and clenched his eyes shut, several fresh tears glinting on his cheeks. "The… n-noise." He finally managed to say.

"It was only thunder."

"It sounded like…" Alex stared at him and then shook his head again, sitting back on the ground without finishing the thought. Straightening his back and wiping at his face with a trembling hand, he struggled to force the echoes of long gone explosions from his mind. His breath was still coming in fast, jagged gasps.

The rain was beating an insistent tattoo on the fabric above them and the cold was setting in, sharp as icicles in the wetness. "It's only thunder," Michael repeated, at a loss. "It's louder out here cuz of all the empty space. Nothin' to be afraid of."

"I am not afraid of thunder." It came out like a shot, hostile in its defensiveness.

Realization rolled through Michael like the thunder had and he sagged from the weight of it. He, of all people, should have understood sooner. "Alex, listen to me. You are safe, there's nothing here that can hurt you."

"I know that."

"I know you know that. I'm reassuring you of it. Please, let me help." His voice was steady and calm, but silent tears were now tracking down his face, lost in the sheen of cold rain he hadn't bothered to dry off yet.

Alex was avoiding eye contact, instead fixing a far off stare at the ground near his feet. "I don't need help." He mumbled, like he was talking to himself.

"'Course you don't. Can I hold onto ya, at least? It's awfully cold." He offered one hand slowly. Again, the motion caused him to recoil and Michael stepped back, shoving his hands into his wet jean pockets. "I'm sorry."

He put his head back into hands. He had managed to meter his breathing somewhat, but it was still catching on the barbed edges of old terror that insisted on fresh pain. "Don't be sorry. I just, I need a minute to get my bearings. I'm still half asleep." This was easier to say than describe the daze he couldn't get out of, how he watched himself pull away when all he wanted was to fall into the comfort of Michael's arms.

"Yeah, anything you need. Should I leave?"

"No! P-please, stay with me." The very thought of being alone sent Alex into more rapid fire breathing, hiccuping here and there from the hyperventilation.

Michael immediately dropped to his ass and crossed his legs, paying no mind to the mud getting on his jeans. "I'm not goin' anywhere, don't worry. You couldn't shake me if you tried. And you have tried, but I always come back. Like the turd that won't flush of a boyfriend, right?" He was letting his mouth run of its own accord as he focused his telekinesis on pulling the boombox out of the bag he'd stored it in and slowly levitating it over to him. The back of his neck had started to tingle in what he knew was a precursor to more lightning. "Hey, try to breathe through your nose, okay? Whaddaya think about some music to distract us from the storm?"

When Alex finally looked up, the tent was filled with white light from the predicted lightning strike. In the suspended flash of eerie brightness, his face looked drained of all color and his eyes were pleading. He nodded urgently.

The jangly piano of Panic! at the Disco's Nine in the Afternoon began to play in the dark; not loud enough to drown out the ensuing thunder, but enough to break the silence before the booming peals could.

They stared at each other as it roared over them. Michael was holding him steady without touching him, fierce eyes overflowing with passion and eyebrows quirked in concern. Alex winced when the rumbling was at its peak, but he didn't pull away from that intense gaze.

Then it was over, leaving only Brendon Urie crooning in its place.

Michael turned the volume down on the music and stood up. Once again, he held both hands out and approached. "Will you let me hold you?"

This time Alex reached backed, allowing himself to be pulled up. He buried his face into Michael's chest and clung to the back of his shirt. They stood like this for some time, long enough for the song to change. Once the tether of physical connection was strong enough to ground him, he leaned back. "Jesus Christ, Michael. You're soaking wet!"

He laughed. "Guess I forgot about it." The thick tension that had been choking the air was draining away, and the weight on his chest was lifting to leave relief in its place.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry. You have to change into something dry. You shouldn't have been sitting here talking me down while you're actively catching pneumonia."

"I know what my priorities are." He teased with a smile. He took his boots off where he stood and walked them to the door, tossing them into the enclosed porch along with sopping wet clothes once they were peeled off. He finished zipping the door shut and Alex tossed his clothing bag to him; soon he was wearing a fresh white undershirt and clean boxers, shivering now that adrenaline wasn't pushing the cold from his mind.

"Come here." Alex pulled him down onto the thin sleeping pad. "Your hair is forming ice crystals." His tone was a mix of admonishment and guilt.

"Stop being so dramatic, you're acting like I stood out in a blizzard." Michael said through lightly chattering teeth, but he gratefully leaned into him.

Using one of his own shirts, Alex tried to dry off his hair, causing him to laugh at the vigorous scrubbing. He was frowning as he did so. "I'm sorry you had to be here for that."

"Don't be. It's better'n you being alone. I'd rather be with you." He laughed more at a final tousle of his hair and looked up with a grin to meet Alex's frown. "What?"

He was biting his lip, looking at the ground again. "It's embarrassing."

"Oh, come on!" Michael nudged him playfully with his elbow. "You shouldn't feel embarrassed around me, considerin' all the times I've made an ass of myself in front of you."

"It's different. I feel like I ruined the night. You know, I was dreaming about driving around in your truck with you, your arm around me and everything glowing and warm. Then, out of nowhere, there was that explosion- thunder, I mean. And I was alone, in a humvee again." He paused for a shaky breath, one hand moving to worry at his leg just above his missing foot. "It's like, my brain can't ever let me forget the pain and the fear and it keeps ruining every bit of happiness I can find."

Michael patiently waited until he was done. "You didn't ruin anything and there's still lots to be happy about right here and right now. Speaking of, what say we lay down and warm each other up?"

Once they were entrenched back in the sleeping bags and bedding, Alex rested his head back on Michael's chest, in the same position they had fallen asleep in. He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Mmm, stop saying that." He was hugging him tightly with both arms, finally warming up. "I understand better than you think I do."

"Your hand…?"

"Oh, yeah, that too. Among others." He said with a dry chuckle. "Did I ever tell you about the foster family that tried to have me exorcized back when every emotion I had sent shit flying? Kept me tied to a bed for two days, waterboarded me with holy water, the whole nine yards. Still got the scars on my wrists."

"Jesus Christ."

"That's what they kept saying." He waited a bit and then gave Alex a little jostle. "That was supposed to be funny."

He scoffed. "It's not funny, it's horrifying."

"All comedy is derived from horror."

"Don't quit your day job."

"Tough crowd." Michael said, smirking in the dark. "My point is, we're both a little fucked up, so what? A few weeks ago I heard a street preacher speaking Latin and I threw up in the gutter. Stone cold sober, not that Max believed that." He was laughing again, chest shaking. "He thought I was shitfaced midday on a tuesday, but I was just fucked from a panic attack."

Alex had raised up to regard him with squinted eyes. "How can you laugh about that?"

"Oh, I dunno," He sighed, mirth still evident in his voice. "Cuz I cry enough when it catches back up to me? Seems really funny from the other side. And the look on that guy's face when I spewed half digested scrambled eggs all over his terrible sermon, classic."

Despite himself, Alex snickered. At first it was nervous chuckling as he shook his head in disbelief, but soon he was losing it, holding onto Michael and snorting with laughter.

When thunder came through the camp again, they were both too busy laughing over things that really weren't funny to notice it.


End file.
